Of Toy Broomsticks and Toddlers
by madame.alexandra
Summary: Sirius sent his godson a toy broomstick for his first birthday. Lily didn't want him to have it, James was of a different opinion. A Mishap ensues.


**A/N:** Merry Christmas! Or to be politically correct, should I sa 'Happy Non-descript winter holiday that is religiously inaffiliated'? Better yet, insert your own politically correct winter greeting :) This is just a little one-shot ficlet I based on that letter from Lily to Sirius in Deathly Hallows, about Harry's toy broomstick. I know it was not Christmas, but I still think it's a cute little story. Enjoy!

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"No!"

"_Lily_!"

He sounded so outraged and shocked, and the petulant-astonished look on his face was so childish she couldn't help but burst into giggles just looking at him, her huge kid of a husband.

"I have to admit, it's cute, but..."

James leapt backwards away from his wife, jerking his arms away and cradling the object in his arms like it was Harry himself, glaring daggers at Lily. He backed up a few more steps and glanced at their son, who was looking up at them with big green eyes, a little party hat plopped on his head.

"_Look_ what you did to him! At least you can let him have this…" James argued, gesturing in annoyance at the fluffy blue and orange party hat on Harry's little head, complete with ducks and a white puff ball on top.

Lily beamed at her son and waggled her fingers at him. He clapped his hands at her and squealed, then turned to look at his father, reaching up with clasping fingers and making noises.

"See? He knows what it is…he wants it…" There was almost a whine to James's voice now, as he held out the offending object towards Harry slowly, a little teasingly, and wiggled it, making his son coo and call for it.

"James, _stop_ it. We are _not_ giving him that toy broomstick." Lily said sternly, holding out her hand for the three foot, sleek miniature broom that had come out of the package Sirius had sent, along with a card loudly and obnoxiously singing 'Happy Birthday'. James reverted to his old stance of protectively holding the broom cradled to his side.

Lily rolled her eyes, with a small smile.

"You are being _ridiculous_," she admonished lightly, stepping towards him. James stumbled back and almost fell into the sofa, managing to leap up on it less-than-gracefully at the last moment to avoid a spill. Lily covered a giggle with her hand, and tried to remain stern.

"No, Lily, _you_ are being ridiculous! It's just a _broom_, it's made for kids…c'mon, let him play with it—I'll tell Sirius you hated his gift!"

James alternated between whining, wheedling, and threatening, and it all came together in a rather comic stomping of his foot on Lily's good cushions. She flinched and ignored it, trying to let go of the minor household annoyances in honor of Harry's first birthday.

"He'll hurt himself!" Lily protested, glancing at Harry. He had his eyes trained on James, with an eyebrow raised. He looked mystified by his surroundings. James looked even more annoyed.

"He will _not_ you crazy woman, he's a _Potter_!"

"He's also an Evans, and I can't play worth a dam—um, worth anything!"

James smiled wickedly at Lily's near slip-up with the cursing and stepped off the couch, shrugging.

"Can't argue _there_, dear," he said sweetly, squatting down and handing Harry the broom.

"Oh, James," Lily sighed, stepping forward reflexively. James leapt up and threw out his arm, blocking her and pushing her away from Harry as he stepped back himself.

"_Hush_," he said conspiratorially, "and watch your son."

Lily rested her hand on James's shoulder and tilted her head, watching Harry benignly. She wasn't too nervous about this really, beyond a nagging feeling that if Sirius had sent it, someone would get hurt. She watched Harry beat the end of the broom on the floor and giggle madly, bending one of the bristles back. James made a pained noise.

"Son!" he groaned, his fingers twitching at the manhandling of the broom.

"Dad!" Harry yelled back patronizingly, causing Lily to burst into laughter again.

"So that's your smart mouth he's got," James grumbled, smiling at Lily over his shoulder. She pinched his forearm affectionately.

"Funny, I always thought he had _your_ attitude problem,"

James affected a wounded look and furrowed his eyebrows, but Lily hit his shoulder and nodded her head towards Harry, who was standing up looking at the broom thoughtfully. He dropped it, and it came to a halt, hovering conveniently just a foot or so off of the carpet. Lily raised an eyebrow and James nodded knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows at her. Harry put his hand on the broom and pressed, shrieking when it floated back up lazily. He clapped at Lily and James and pointed to the broom.

"Kitch!" He cried, beaming. Lily furrowed her eyebrows, not recognizing the word. "Kitch, Dad!"

"What--?"

"He's saying 'quidditch'." James said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and Lily was a complete moron for not knowing that.

Harry stepped up to the broom and put his hand on it, picking his sturdy little leg up and swinging it over the broom. He wobbled, and almost fell over, causing Lily to leap forward, nearly grabbing him off the broom. James grabbed her arm and shook his head.

"He's _fine_," he soothed, rolling his eyes.

Lily watched Harry sit there and kick his legs, giggling. She turned around, searching the mantle above the fireplace for their camera, and picked it up, resigning herself to the men in her family and figuring she might as well take pictures of Harry and his first [of many, most likely] broomstick. She turned back just in time to see Harry pedal his foot backwards and the broom rocket forward, jerking Harry's neck back.

"_James_!" she shrieked in his ear, as Harry narrowly missed colliding with the opposite wall and turned sharply, yelling gibberish. James was doubled over in laughter, his head lifted to watch his son. Lily hit him, watching Harry with panicky eyes as he zipped around the living room. The broom slowed, and Lily hesitantly raised her camera, waiting to see if he was okay. He did the odd thing with his foot again and Harry shot from one corner of the room to the other, nose-diving into the middle of the cat's bed and sending the feline yowling and hissing into the air. The broom, with Harry on it, bounced back and jerked, swinging Harry until he almost fell. Lily gasped.

"James Potter _get_ my son OFF THAT BROOM!" she yelled, shoving James towards Harry. Still laughing, James waved his hand to appease her and approached Harry, a huge smile plastered across his face.

"Alright, son, let me show you how to handle that—_boy_!" James ended on a sharper note, and Harry skittered away across the room, disappearing out into the kitchen. James ran after him, his bare feet slapping against the linoleum floor. Lily shook her head, still holding the camera at chest level, listening to the giggles and shrieks of her son, and James's shouts. Harry reappeared through the other entrance to the room, James panting after, reaching downward to try and grab the boy. Lily snapped a picture without thinking, and James looked up, glaring at her. In the moment he took his eyes off of Harry, their son accidentally pulled the broom to the highest it would go and zoomed right into a table in the corner, knocking off a vase that then shattered to the floor, followed by Harry himself.

Lily dropped the camera where she stood.

"James, the glass!" she snapped, but James was already there. He picked up the broom and tossed it over the back of the couch, where it rested innocently. He reached out his arms and scooped Harry up, holding him close. Lily came up and put her hand on his head, ruffling his hair and looking worriedly at his face. Harry looked confused.

"Dammit, Mummy." He said matter-of-factly. Lily widened her eyes and turned them on James, who was—of course—giving her a rather sheepish look.

"I don't…_where_ did he hear _that_? We'll have to…Remus, that _rascal_…"

Lily raised a skeptical eyebrow and made the 'mmm-hmmm' noise that her boys got when they lied to her. She ran her fingers through Harry's jet black mop of hair and kissed his forhead, touching her nose to his afterwards.

"I told you he would get hurt," she admonished James quietly. James pulled a face and stuck out his tongue.

"You messed up his concentration with that stupid camera," he defended, adjusting Harry in his arms, "Isn't that right, son? You're a brilliant flier."

He nodded vigorously at Harry, until he got Harry imitating him and then looked triumphantly at Lily.

"He'll put me to shame one day," James said proudly. Lily smiled indulgently and bent down, picking up the party hat that had fallen off Harry during the vase smashing episode. She slapped it on his head and held out her arms; Harry wriggled out of James's grip and reached for her, nestling his head on her shoulder and touching her hair contentedly.

"And until that day, James darling, he's my little _baby_," she said quietly. James bent down and kissed her gently, touching Harry's back.

"Happy Birthday, Son."

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Review, please? It is Christmas...


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